


Scott Ridley: Ass-Kisser

by Kittenfightclub



Category: Death Machine (1994), HELP! A Bear is Eating Me! - Mykle Hansen
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crossover, M/M, Marv doesnt even think about bears, Marv gets off on being called 'sir', but thats okay, i obviously dont know how internships work, i only spent like an hour on this im sorry, no bears, pre-bears, regrettably, ridiculous pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 10:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11079381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenfightclub/pseuds/Kittenfightclub
Summary: ummm Scott is an intern at wherever the fuck Marv works  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and suffers thoroughly(because Marv is a dick, but also because Scott has a ~crush~)





	Scott Ridley: Ass-Kisser

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karvolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karvolf/gifts).



> this is probably the most obscure crack i will ever write in my life  
> (I originally tried to write this from Marv's perspective, before I remembered how much I suck at comedy and started over)

Scott Ridley was a man of action, a do-er, an ass-kisser (though he’d probably use a more dignified term when describing himself). He wanted to be a business man, a CEO; he wanted to be successful! 

In those ways, he had a lot in common with his future employer- or rather,  _ hopeful  _ future employer, the man who would be teaching him during his internship that summer: Marv Pushkin, the rich, successful leader of Image Team.

 

Scott hoped that Marv Pushkin would like him, or at least like him more than that Katy-Perry-stanning bitch who went to the same college as him, who somehow got an internship there as well during the summer. Scott doubted that he would have anything to worry about competing with the girl for Marv Pushkin’s  ~~ affections ~~ favor; she was often scatterbrained and hardly pretty- in Scott’s opinion at least. Besides, he couldn’t imagine her working in leadership. She was probably learning public-relations, or some other useless bullshit. He was right. He shot her a wave and a sly grin every time he passed her,  _ working in reception _ . Ha!

 

.

 

“Scott Ridley.” Scott extended his hand with an award-winning-yet-stoic smile, "nice to meet you."

Marv Pushkin did not reply, simply glaring into his eyes as though shaking someone's hand were completely foreign, and not a very popular way of introduction. An intimidation tactic, Scott figured- he had heard of extending handshakes for long minutes in order to intimidate possible business partners; he figured that it must go the other way as well. Scott just kept smiling and staring back, maybe it was a test.  _ Besides, if you know it's an intimidation tactic, you can’t really be intimidated, right? _

 

Wrong. Scott was certainly intimidated, if not by the gruesome stare then by the tiny prick of a tear beginning to form in his own eye. He was  _ not  _ going to cry in front of Marv Pushkin!    
  
_ Does this guy just not blink _ ? Scott eventually looked down, rubbing at his eyes with the back of one hand.

 

Marv Pushkin smiled, and put his hand out for Scott to shake. What. The. Fuck. Scott shook it, nothing but obedient till the end, and he felt the familiar touch of a fond glance. It felt  _ good _ , Scott shooed away the pink blush starting to tinge his cheeks. 

Maybe it was degrading, allowing himself to fall victim to power games, but if that's what gets you ahead in business, it was something that Scott was willing to endure (and in turn become familiar with, so that he could use the same tactics in the future).

 

As he followed Marv Pushkin through the door into his office, Scott took out his notebook and made a note, the first edition to a bulleted list: handshake???

 

.

 

For the small amounts of time Marv Pushkin stayed in his office, Scott was ordered to sit in a chair on the opposite side of the room in order to teach him... _ something _ , apparently.    
Scott figured that  _ Marv Pushkin _ certainly had more important things to do than tend to interns, and took a note: don't waste time???

 

Scott learned nothing else from Marv Pushkin while sitting in his office, mostly, he assumed, because Marv Pushkin didn't spend a lot of time in his office.

 

.

 

Marv Pushkin spend most of his time at work just walking around to check on his subordinates. Scott wondered what Mr. Pushkin's actual job description was- something along the lines of "make sure everything runs smoothly" or "keep everyone on track" he supposed; it must be an important job for him to make so much money ( _ seven figures! _ ) even though it seemed like Marv Pushkin did nothing at all.

 

Well... not exactly nothing. Scott noticed that he spent a lot of time hovering around the coffee machine in the break room, though he didn't seem to drink coffee at all. 

He also thought that it was funny to slap the ass of the product dialogue assistant as she passed him in the hallway- Scott Ridley did not think that was funny, and shot the girl a glare.

 

The girl, Marcia, just laughed at the intern's baby-face and winked at Pushkin.

 

Scott did not add a bullet to his list, but scribbled a bit in the margin of the page in frustration.

 

He did not like Marcia from product dialogue, as Marv Pushkin referred to her, and he definitely did not like how  ~~ his  ~~ Marv Pushkin stared at her like a piece of meat- not that he wanted Marv Pushkin to stare at  _ him _ like a piece of meat, though he did want Marv Pushkin to stare at him. Scott thought about it, and decided that he would prefer to be stared at like a winning racehorse- but like... a  _ sexy _ winning racehorse... 

 

.

 

As much as Scott Ridley wanted Marv Pushkin to stare at him, the man hardly paid any attention to him at all. More often than not, Marv Pushkin wouldn't even address him for hours; Scott was simply expected to follow him around and _ learn things _ . 

Scott had expected to get more instruction during his internship, but he wasn't one to criticize those more experienced and powerful than himself, especially not Marv Pushkin, who he had idolized since high school..

 

Scott Ridley spend a lot of time staring at Marv Pushkin though,  _ hours,  _ in fact. He told himself that he was learning things, discerning small tips and tricks from Marv Pushkin's cheekbones and vaguely muscular chest. There must be a lot to learn, he figured, since he couldn't stop staring.

 

He took a few notes, over the course of a week, just of things he learned from staring at Marv Pushkin: Nice cheekbones! Good posture! Perfect hair! Beautiful teeth! Confident smile! 

 

Not that he could really affect any of those changes in himself, except for maybe good posture, but he still felt that they were important things to note anyways.

 

He also noted that Marv Pushkin never answered the phone when it rang, not even when it rang three times back-to-back. He waited instead for the employee to come dashing to his office, panting for breath, and inform him in person of whatever important problem they had tried to call about. 

 

In addition, Scott noted that he kept no personal effects on his desk- not even pictures of his wife, which Scott knew that he had (though he didn't particularly care to acknowledge that fact). On his desk Marv Pushkin kept, notably, his laptop, a metal cup containing black ink pens, and a bottle of hand sanitizer. Scott Ridley took a list of those things as well.

 

.

 

The one time that Marv Pushkin looked up and caught Scott Ridley staring at him, his face had twisted into a snarl so gruesome that Scott felt a blush curl down his neck.

 

"Don't you have something to be doing?" Mr. Pushkin asked, a mixture of annoyance and amusement; he also sounded a tad... flattered?

 

"I..." _ Don't stutter, _ Scott hissed internally. "I'm waiting...sir."

 

Marv smiled at that, "You aren't waiting. Waiting implies that you are doing nothing else. You were clearly  _ staring _ .” A drawn out pause. “Do you need something?"

 

_ Yes, I need you to-  _  "No, sir." Scott felt the blush creep further onto his cheeks and begin to tickle at his nose. He groaned only slightly, almost completely silent.

 

"Good. Now, go back to  _ waiting _ ." Marv gave him a brilliantly toothy smile. __  
__  
Scott scribbled in his margins, now almost entirely full of similar chiding notes to himself: be less obvious.

 

 

 

 


End file.
